


Colour

by oloros



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Birthdays, Fluff, Found Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26338996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oloros/pseuds/oloros
Summary: Hank was never a birthday man, but something was different this year.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Colour

**September 6, 2039**

* * *

Hank opened his eyes.

His curtains were pulled open and light showered his skin, warm and tender. It flowed through the area, blending with the shadows to softly dapple every corner of his room. The warmth of his blankets was benign and familiar, yet even as they were pulled from his body the cold that lapped at his skin was just as soothing.

“Good morning, Hank.” The blur in his vision cleared and he was welcomed to view a goofy face blocking the ceiling above. One eyebrow slightly more elevated than the other, quirked lips and reposeful brown eyes that reminded him of someone he had loved so, so much.

“Work already?” Hank feigned irritation and rolled in his sheets, crinkling the fabric. He cast his arms over his eyes as if to block out that pleasant, forgiving light.

“Yes,” Connor confirmed as he placed a set of clothes onto the bed. Hank’s outfits were all similar in essence; a leathery jacket and dark pants. Connor had picked out an extravagant shirt this occasion, the one with small Beagle faces plastered over the torso. It was his least favourite shirt, he thought it looked a horrid mix of flashy and silly, but he put it on. He knew Connor liked it.

Connor yapped on about him missing breakfast on the drive to the station. Normally, he would turn the radio to a higher volume and block out the noise, but it felt endearing today. He told Connor he would keep it in mind tomorrow, and even accept him analysing his meal choice if it made him feel more comfortable. Connor seemed delighted to have his concerns addressed, and Hank was delighted to see the genuine smile on his lips.

It had to have been years since he had seen so much colour, heard so much music.

Hank stood against the open door of his car and admired the surroundings of the station. The trees were shades of yellows and oranges, leaves gently plucked away from their branches by the kind hands of the wind. Instead of the screeching of tires and the drumming of construction, he could hear the children laughing in the parks nearby, the dogs barking as they chased after their favourite balls, and the barely audible trill of Connor’s processors as he stood beside him.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Connor said.

Hank stared at him then walked inside.

They worked lightly, making idle chatter and laughing amongst themselves before a hardy figure loomed over their desk. Hank bit his lip and whirled in his chair, opening his mouth to ask what Gavin had blamed on them this time –

Jeffrey placed a clean, white mug on his desk. It was quite possibly the cheesiest and most tacky thing Hank had laid eyes on. The front boasted a messily drawn smiley face with asymmetrical eyes, and underneath it was printed, ‘Everything will be OK.’

“Happy birthday, Hank,” Jeffrey said.

“That has got to be the worst mug I’ve ever seen.”

“I knew you’d like it.” Jeffrey laughed, pat him on the shoulder and returned to his office.

Hank loved it. He was quick to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee and sip it over the next half hour. Connor seemed just as excited as he was over the gift, asking to hold it and even sampling the coffee inside. There was no reason to, but Hank figured he got a kick out of sharing, even if it was as simple as sharing small experiences like drinking coffee.

His shift went by quick, the quickest in a long time. He had watched with a big, goofy grin on his face as Connor bantered with Gavin for the second time that day. He hadn’t the faintest idea what they were squabbling about, but watching Connor stand up for himself had enough merit to entertain him for the next hour.

He joined Connor on a walk when they returned home. Sumo was eager to have both his friends on the journey, pulling at the lead so hard he swore the normally perfectly balanced android tripped on his feet a couple times. The streets were lined with a golden tinge and the trees danced along with the wind. They walked by the park and Connor pointed out the types of birds to him; he listened intently, and he learnt that birds will sometimes adopt a chick that is not theirs.

Connor disappeared for a few hours afterwards. Hank waited on the couch, flicking through the channels with a blind eye. The sun had set long ago and the room was shrouded in darkness, the walls painted an ugly grey, overwhelming the flickers of colour that the television spat towards him. The air was cold and still, it shied away from his skin but floated just close enough to be tantalising.

Then, the door opened, and a drop of blue entered the shaded sea. It rippled through the waters, streaked through the waves and surrounded the room.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said, dropping onto the couch beside him. He had a small box in his hands, coloured a light blue with a white ribbon perfectly tied around it, the knot tight enough to hold but just loose enough to be pulled apart by calloused hands. “I didn’t mean to take so long.” He placed the box in Hank’s lap and looked at him expectantly.

Hank wasted no time in opening it. He was cautious with the ribbon, not wanting to pull a thread loose or crinkle the material. He placed it over his thigh and slid the cover off of the box, revealing a shiny coin cushioned in foam. It looked brand new, and when he squinted he could see a unique outline printed into the metal. “Is that Sumo?”

Connor looked a mix of embarrassed and pleased. “Yes,” he said. “I saw you with my coin last week, so it seemed like an appropriate gift.” He reached over and pulled the coin from the foam, flipping it with his thumb. “I can teach you my tricks, if you’d like.”

He looked so young. He offered the gift with nervous uncertainty, he sidled closer as it was opened and he looked at Hank with a respect he had only seen once before in his lifetime. At that moment, nestled into the couch and sharing the darkness, allowing the faint blue LED to illuminate them and only them, Hank wanted to tell Connor what the past year of his life had meant to him. How a colour he never knew existed had decorated his palette, that the world had begun to rotate all that much faster, and that for the second time in his life he felt he had a solid reason to be a good man again.

“Yeah,” Hank agreed. “Let’s see ‘em.”

**Author's Note:**

> I keep getting ideas for shorts while trying to write bigger projects, oops.  
> Happy birthday, Hank! A wonderful character and a great man.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
